


Love.Sex.Angel.Baby.

by cinelitchick



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angels, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Canon Universe, Car Sex, Castiel/Dean Winchester First Time Having Sex, Demons, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Smut, Frottage, Gay Sex, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mutual Pining, Oral Sex, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-03
Updated: 2020-09-03
Packaged: 2021-03-06 17:08:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,506
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26272390
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cinelitchick/pseuds/cinelitchick
Summary: After walking into a trap and taking care of those responsible, Dean roams the dark roads of Kansas in Baby in the hope of finding an MIA Castiel while Sam holds down the Men of Letters bunker.Mile after mile, Dean worries about what could have happened to Cas after they separated to hunt down what remained of their captors. He thinks about his feelings for the angel and how they are deeper than he has been willing to admit. With Cas not answering neither his nor Sam's prayers, Dean starts to wonder if the day he has feared has finally arrived.Castiel means the world to him. If by some miracle he comes back to him, Dean is done wasting time. While he's scared of taking the next step in their relationship, he's terrified of losing the one person he loves more than Sam.The only question remains is does Castiel want the same thing?
Relationships: Castiel & Dean Winchester & Sam Winchester, Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 5
Kudos: 72





	Love.Sex.Angel.Baby.

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first Supernatural story despite being a fan since that fateful night in September fifteen years ago.
> 
> I love the boys, Castiel, and this show with all my heart. It brought me my best friend, after all.
> 
> This final hellatus has been as long as a stretch of two-lane blacktop. May this short story help ease the the last few miles that remain before the final episodes resume next month.

The night was long with no sense of an end in sight. A quarter moon hung in the blue-black sky shining a sliver of light on the two-lane blacktop that the 1967 Chevrolet Impala traveled. It was as dark the road itself, wheels spinning as it carried its owner to nowhere in particular. Miles stretched ahead and even more lay in its wake. They had been traveling for hours now. A full tank made one problem go away. Five miles back it had been an issue until the driver happened upon an empty gas station with its lights still on and an “open” sign hanging in the window of the small convenience store that sat a few feet behind the pumping station.

It had been a dangerous mission. The three of them knew that going in, but it didn’t stop them. A nest of demons had been holed up in an old mansion in Coldwater, Kansas. Or at least they thought it had been solely demons. When they arrived, the truth was revealed. What should have been solely a cadre of upper-level demons was actually a cadre of upper-level demons and angels. They had started the rumors themselves, making sure word got back to the pair of hunters and their angelic friend.

Sam and Dean Winchester had first got wind of it through their network of fellow hunters. The brothers had just finished cleaning up a haunting outside of Lander, Wyoming, when Sam’s phone rang. A few hours later, it was Dean’s phone. Then, some more calls with texts and emails mixed in over the next several days. When the angel Castiel suddenly showed up inside the bunker where the boys resided, he told them what he had been hearing on angel radio — what Dean called the chatter among the celestial that only Castiel was privy to due to his status. Castiel had heard the demons were in Coldwater.

Located in Lebanon, Kansas, the Men of Letters bunker was inherited by the boys after they learned their paternal grandfather, Henry, had been a member. The order was a secret society that thought themselves better than hunters (think of the one percent versus blue collar) and who were steeped in knowledge of the supernatural, as well as the arcane arts, such as alchemy. The bunker itself housed a treasure trove of objects and research material, all of which had come in handy to the Winchester brothers over the years.

As such, they saw it as no coincidence that this group of powerful demons had set up shop less than four hours from their place of residence. What the demons wanted was anyone’s guess as no amount of asking their friends and colleagues or any additional research had scrounged up any answers. Could be they simply wanted the trio dead. Or they wanted the bunker for themselves. The amount of damage that could be done if the place fell into the wrong hands scared the crap out of them.

So, off they went in the Impala to Coldwater to find out what the hell was going on and to kill the nest before it was too late. Castiel sat in the backseat as was his want when not scouting ahead, while Dean drove and Sam rode shotgun. No one drove Baby but Dean unless he said so or there was an extreme circumstance. Baby was what he lovingly called his most prized possession. He and Baby had been through almost everything together. She became his when her original owner, the boys’ dad John, had handed over the keys. Next to a necklace Sam gave him one year for Christmas when they were kids, it was the best gift Dean had ever received.

Once in Coldwater, the house was easy to find as it was literally the only mansion in the town’s limits. At this point, it had become painfully obvious this was a trap. Grabbing the essential tools needed from the weapons compartment in Baby’s protected trunk — under the lid was a pentagram and various sigils — the trio headed toward the house. They split up only to discover just how deep they were in it. 

Castiel was the first to realize this when he ran into a familiar face as he came around the right side of the perimeter. Far from friendly, this angel had said only _Surprise!_ before attacking. Following a drawn out tussle, Castiel emerged the victor after using the angel blade he always kept on his person to eviscerate the celestial being leaving their vessel an empty husk. This was not the first of his kind he had killed and was all too aware it would not be the last.

“It’s going to be a long night,” he muttered resignedly as he straightened his tan trench coat and made his way into the house.

Sam and Dean each had similar encounters. Their opponents had been demons and were dispatched accordingly with a demon-killing knife. A few gunshots had rung out during their respective fights, but ultimately the blade finished the job. They were ambushed as soon as they stepped foot inside the mansion.

When he gained consciousness, the first thing Dean noticed was he was handcuffed to an armchair. The second thing was Castiel sitting across from him in the same fashion yet bleeding. This caused his protective nature to flare up. He hated seeing his loved ones injured or in pain. Castiel caught his eye and nodded. Dean understood this to mean his friend was okay. Castiel understood the curt nod he received in return to mean their captors were going to pay once Dean was free. This made his heart feel light. It always did. Not because of the inevitable violence, but of what it meant: Dean had his back.

The elder Winchester turned to his left and silently checked in with his brother. Ever since the night their mother Mary had been burned alive on the ceiling of baby Sam’s nursery and John had put him in charge of keeping Sam safe as they fled the house, which had been engulfed in flames, Dean always made sure his brother was good. It was his job. He may not always do it as well as he should, but he did his best.

His nerves calmed a little when Sam saw his brother and Castiel were okay for the most part. The blood seeping through Castiel’s white dress shirt concerned him. Could he not heal himself? He managed to quirk the corner of his mouth when he gave Dean a quick nod. John may have told his brother to watch out for him as an order when they were kids, but Sam was just as protective of Dean. And now, Castiel. The angel had proven his loyalty to the Winchesters so many times over the years, he was family. It was always painful to watch Castiel and Dean fall out, which they did more times than Sam could count. Their ideologies may be slightly different, but they tended to be on the same page. Thankfully, they always came back together eventually.

The co-leaders of this band of renegades who had declared war on the brothers and Castiel appeared to lay out their plan. Villains always love to hear their own voices. These two were no exception. As they yammered on about their grand design (in short, they were going to kill the trio and take the bunker for their own nefarious deeds), Dean had begun working on picking the lock on the handcuffs. Sam saw what he was doing and flared his nostrils so Castiel would know they weren’t going to be here for long. The angel blinked once to inform his friend he got the message.

Across the room, Sam spotted their weapons piled on a table. He wasn’t as subtle as he should have been as the angel leader sent one of her own to grab a demon-killing knife and “show Sam what it’s like to bleed a pig.” The rest of their captors, ten in all, cackled ominously. The angel with the knife sliced a long scar down Sam’s cheek.

After that, it was all a bit of a blur from what Dean could remember..

He had managed to free himself from the handcuffs, but had to disable the angel near Sam and take down a few demons as his brother worked his skills on unlocking his own set. Once he was free, he joined Dean and they separately made their way to the table grabbing what weapons they could. With Castiel’s lone angel blade in play, they tossed it back and forth, taking out the heavenly creatures until the demon leader snatched it. He was taken out by Sam, but the blade was picked up by the angel leader who was seconds from stabbing Castiel with it. 

“You are an abomination,” she decreed, a look of disgust contorting her features.

A split-second later, she was dead at Castiel’s feet, the shadow of her wings burned into the floor.

“You’re the fucking abomination, you bitch.” Dean spat out the words. His face softened when he saw the look of gratitude his friend gave him.

They shared a moment when their eyes met, their lips curling into small smiles.

“Hey!”

Sam shattered the tender scene with his commanding tone. His voice always dropped an octave-and-a-half lower when he took charge.

“We’re not done here. Three more scattered once we took down the bosses.”

“Go. Let me free Cas first. We’ll be right behind you.”

Having found the key to the handcuffs as it lay on the floor next to one of the minions, Sam tossed it to Dean and tore out in pursuit. Seconds later, Dean and Castiel split up after the angel assured his friend he was healed and good to go.

An upstairs bedroom was where Sam found one of the escapees. She attacked him from behind, knocking the Taurus PT92 nine-millimeter from his grip and onto the wood floor. After a prolonged fight that left a fair amount of wear and tear on him, he was able to slide the demon-killing knife into the skin of the human suit it was wearing. It was dead and Sam moved on to find his team.

For Dean, it was in the living room on the first floor where his opponent found him. The violent assault had him flying through the bay windows and onto the grass outside. He was pretty banged up by now. It made fighting that much harder, but he persevered. In the end, he was able to stab the demon-killing knife he carried through the shoulder blades of his assailant. He had just caught his breath when Sam came through the front door.

A prolonged search of the house and grounds had turned up empty.

Castiel and the third minion were nowhere to be found.

  
  
  


This wasn’t the first time Dean had gone for a drive after something had gone wrong with Castiel. Fights (both arguments and knock-down dragged out brawls) and disappearances were the surface reasons he slid in the driver’s seat of Baby and hit the road. Deep down, he did it because he wasn’t at peace with himself. Every disturbance in the force left a mark on him in places that weren’t visible to the naked eye.

All those disagreements and savage verbal take-downs where each drew metaphorical blood had taken their toll on Dean. The many times Castiel had vanished from his life, whether by choice or by banishment, also had worn him out. Their relationship was far from perfect, but it meant the world to him. He had thought he had lost Castiel more times than he could count only for the angel to return. What if this time it was for real? Dean shook his head to clear the blasphemous thought from his mind. 

_This is Cas. Don’t you dare give up on him, asshole. It’s only been a few hours. He’s out there. I know it._

His phone rang. He reached into the interior pocket of his navy blue cotton jacket with the erect collar. A quick glance at the caller ID showed it wasn’t Castiel calling. Dammit.

“Hey, Sammy. Any word?”

“No. That’s why I’m checking in. I had hoped you heard something by now. I’ve been praying to him, but he’s not answering.”

Sam sounded worried and that did not sit well with Dean. If his brother was concerned, it would only seep into his own bones and he didn’t have the wherewithal to deal with that. He needed to be fucking optimistic and Sam was harshing his rosy glow.

“Yeah, I’ve been praying, too,” Dean admitted. “He’ll be in touch. Probably just taking a time out to recharge or something. The assclown he chased might have taken a bit of juice to put down, you know?”

“Yeah. Yeah, you’re right.” Sam psyched himself up to feed into Dean’s power of positive thinking. “That group was really strong. I know there was a moment or three where I felt overpowered.”

They were feeding off the good vibes now.

“Exactly! I felt the same way.” Assuring himself and Sam was easier than Dean expected. “We got the upper hand by the skin of our teeth. Took us a few minutes to get even a tenth of our energy back. I’m still a little shook.”

The truth of that last statement made Dean’s heart tighten. Continuing this fight without Castiel by his side was not something he wanted to happen. However, Sam was still here and would be until the end. Still, as much as he loved his baby brother, he wasn’t the angel with the adoring glance that warmed Dean from the inside out.

“How’s that cut looking, by the way? You take care of that yet?”

“Yeah, I did. It’s not too deep, so there shouldn’t be a scar.”

“Good. Chicks dig scars so that means I’m still ahead in the looks department.”

An amused chuckle floated over the line. “You keep telling yourself that. I’m going to try and get some sleep. Phone’s on though. Call me if you hear _anything._ I mean it.”

A loaded smile played on Dean’s lips. That _anything_ scared him. It didn’t solely mean the good; the bad was in there, as well. He swallowed the dread that crawled up his throat.

“You got it. Same on your end.”

His brother promised he would be in touch and added a “stay safe” before ending the call. They both knew it was more likely Castiel would end up in the passenger seat next to Dean than in the bunker with Sam. Still, crazier things have happened. Such was their life.

As the miles clicked over on the odometer, his thoughts drifted to how he felt about Castiel. This wasn’t the first time this had happened. Over the years they had known each other, from the first moment he saw him if he was being honest, Dean had felt a pull toward the tall, dark, and handsome angel with the gravelly voice not unlike his own (though not as deep). 

During one of Castiel’s disappearances where he had been seemingly killed, Dean had kept his friend’s signature outerwear — intact yet bloody — in the trunk of the Impala. In those darkest moments when the loss weighed too heavy on him, he would pull out the tan trench coat and breathe in Castiel’s scent. He didn’t do it too often out of fear that familiar musk would fade away. It never did.

Even now, Dean briefly closed his eyes, inhaled deeply, and could imagine that warm, sweet scent that was unequivocally Castiel. A quick glance next to him and another check in the rearview mirror at the backseat showed he was alone. His bottom lip quivered. That was the problem. He didn’t want to be alone. Nor did he want Castiel to be gone for good. Tears welled in his eyes, threatening to fall. This wasn’t the first time he had gotten emotional over the idea of losing his friend.

Was he just a friend though? They had shared many soft gazes and long embraces. More than a few days had been spent in the Impala working a case when Sam was off doing something else. Enough alcohol had been drunk to put Dean at least in the Betty Ford Clinic. And they literally had been to Hell (not to mention Purgatory) and back. All those arguments, fights, whatever had been driven by passion and love. There was always more to them than the ones he and Sam had though those could be just as nuclear.

Castiel had been put to a different set of standards than Sam. Dean could see that now. He had thought of the angel as a brother, told him he was family, but he never fantasized about Sam the way he did about Castiel. They were soul brothers. They were friends, but also more than friends. On nights when he wasn’t sleeping with a woman he had just met — which even he had to admit didn’t happen nearly as often as it used to; had been that way for awhile — but couldn’t succumb to slumber, Dean would slide his right hand underneath his boxers and think of Castiel.

He was never happier than when he was with the angel. So many times, now that Dean thought about it, there had been an opening for him to make the first move. They played like a highlight reel in his head now as he drove along the dimly lit road, illuminated intermittently by a streetlight. All those chances wasted. Had he had the balls to press his lips against Castiel’s just once, perhaps he would have had the slender man in his arms and in his bed.

The regret that pushed up his throat tasted like bile. Dean licked his lips and swallowed it down. Christ. He could have tasted Castiel’s cum, wrapped his mouth around the other man’s cock. What he wouldn’t give to taste Castiel. To have his tongue slide between those plush lips and explore. Sex aside, they could go out for breakfast or dinner. Hell any meal would do. Maybe see a movie? _Cas likes movies, right? Of course, he does. Everybody likes movies._

Outside the windshield, as the trees on either side rolled by, imaginary billboards showed what he could have if he gave a damn about being happy. Since birth, Dean knew he was straight. He slept with any beautiful woman who gave him a second glance and even went domestic once as a boyfriend and stepfather. It wasn’t until he set up house with his ex-girlfriend Lisa and her son Ben that it occurred to Dean how the carpet didn’t match the drapes so to speak. He enjoyed being a father figure to Ben and his relationship with Lisa had been solid. She was the only woman he had ever loved. Returning to her for a new beginning was his biggest regret if only for the havoc he had wrecked.

Even during the halcyon days of that period, Dean knew something was missing. He knew it had nothing to do with Lisa or Ben. It was all him. At the time, he couldn’t figure it out. Thought it was connected to Sam, who had become Lucifer’s vessel and been locked in a cage in Hell, and retiring from hunting. He had shrugged it off, going about his merry way until the next time it scratched at the back of his mind. This process repeated itself until Sam returned, hunting lured Dean away, and the happily ever after he thought he had carefully crafted imploded.

It was when he saw Castiel again after that period that the puzzle pieces locked into place. Being unprepared to face such impossible, nay improbable, feelings of attraction or love toward this man, Dean pushed them down, down, down to be dealt with later or better yet never. However, never was a concept that didn’t really work with the Winchesters. Such concepts always came back to bite them in the ass. 

Which is why Dean was facing his sexuality crisis in the middle of the night on a long stretch of county road in the middle of God knows where after possibly losing the love of his life to a demon or, worse, another angel. Castiel was basically the only angel Dean could stomach as the rest of them had proven to be total douchebags.

Thinking once more of Castiel made that warm feeling start low inside Dean, caused his heart to skip a beat, forced a tightness in his crotch. While Lisa was the only one of the myriad women Dean had bedded to ignite a similar physical reaction, it still paled in comparison to the Technicolor, Dolby Surround experience he was living right now.

“Castiel, I pray to you, please tell me where you are or at least let me know you’re okay? You’re scaring the shit out of me and I hate it! I need you, man. _Goddammit!_ ” He slammed his hand against the steering wheel. A slow breath left him, allowing him a moment to collect himself. “Sam’s worried, too. You happy? We’re both worried about you.” The anger dissipated as quickly as it surged, replaced with naked fear. “Just come to me, Cas. Please. We’ll figure this out together. I need you so much.”

“I need you, too, Dean.”

  
  
  


Two things happened simultaneously to Dean when Cas spoke: first, he jumped a good two inches off the seat; and second, his insides melted like chocolate over an open flame. He let out a rather loud “ _Jesus Christ!_ ” while his fingers gripped the steering wheel till his knuckles were bone white. Now he had a moment to adjust, his heart was thundering so hard he was convinced it was going to break through his rib cage. A shuddering breath followed another, less intense one.

“No. Castiel. We’ve been over this. I’m the one in the trench coat with the short hair.” This was said in his traditional deadpan style though he had learned inflection was crucial and sarcasm had its place.

“Oh, you’re fucking hysterical.” Dean’s words were drenched in sarcasm though his eyes showed he wasn’t nearly as offended as his tone declared. He thought it was funny.

“The crinkles around your eyes lead me to believe you.”

Dean chanced a glance at his friend, who wore a serene smile proffering some eye crinkles of his own. He grinned in response. Castiel looked well, a little tired perhaps but that was to be expected. His eyes caught blood on the lapel of the trench coat, on the perpetually loosened blue tie, and the white dress shirt.

“How much of that is yours?” He gestured haphazardly to Castiel’s wardrobe.

Looking down at his clothes, the angel frowned. “Not sure. I was bleeding profusely before I had healed myself once you freed me. She did get more than a few good punches and slices in before I ended her. It took longer than I had expected. She knew what she was doing. Put up one hell of a fight once I finally cornered her. I suspect she had training. Her sparring skills were unparalleled. We ended up in the woods a couple miles east of the house. I will never look at a pine cone the same way again.”

He was watching the road through the windshield now. His voice giving away how drained he was following the knockdown fight. Castiel glanced at Dean, not liking how his jaw was set. Knowing the other man for as long as he had and as well as he did, Castiel recognized the signs.

“I didn’t mean to worry you, Dean. I’m sorry. As soon as I could, I sought you out. Your prayers helped a great deal. Yours and Sam’s, but especially yours.”

Suddenly, Dean was tired of driving. He wanted nothing more than to find a place to park for the night and have a long talk with his friend about why it took so damn long to come back to him, among other things.

“I know, Cas.” That was all he could say and he hated himself for it. He grabbed the phone from its spot on the seat between them. “Promised Sammy I’d call when I knew something.”

Sam picked up on the third ring. “You got him?”

A wince scrunched up Dean’s features when he heard how groggy his brother sounded. Kid must have passed out the second his head hit the pillow. 

“Yeah, I got him. He’s a little worn out and in desperate need of a laundromat, but he’s fine. Go back to sleep.”

“You coming straight back?” Sam was fighting to stay awake, but he needed peace of mind.

“Nah, not tonight. We’ll just find some place to pull over. Sleep in the car. I’ll call you when we’re back on the road in the morning. Get some rest, Sammy. I mean it.”

Always the big brother, Dean couldn’t stand hearing out ragged his sibling sounded.

“I will. Thanks for calling. Tell Cas I’m glad he’s alright. Night, Dean.”

“Will do. Night.”

Dean stuck the phone back into the inside pocket of his jacket. A few miles later, he saw a sign for a lake up ahead on the right. He did a double take. No way that was the name of the place.

“Did you catch the name of that lake?” Disbelief flooded his features. “Figured we could make camp there for the night.”

“Either somebody has a sense of humor or it’s a coincidence. At least it’s off-season. No campers to worry about. Or killer mothers or men in hockey masks.”

The corners of Castiel’s mouth quirked. It was moments like these he appreciated the pop culture upgrade he received some time ago. When hanging out with Dean, it came in handy. _A lot._

As Baby made her way down the long dirt road toward the lake, Dean took the opportunity to smooth any ruffled feathers. “So, you said this chick led you away from the house and into the woods a couple miles away. Makes sense. Sam and I went all over that property or so we thought. He said the actual property was ten acres. There was no way we could have searched it all, just the two of us. I’m sorry. You were still there and we … _I_ … just gave up.”

Castiel looked at him with his wide eyes filled with understanding and forgiveness. “Dean, there was no way you could have known. I know you and Sam did the best you could. I heard your prayers. _All of them._ ”

The Impala arrived at a fork in the road. Left took you to the lake, right to the camp. Dean followed the left curve. It was wide enough for exactly one vehicle. He was happy they were the only ones here. As late as it was, there was little doubt anyone else would still be around. If he was wrong, he may go all Jason Voorhees himself. His phone had read two-twenty-three when he hung up with Sam. He sighed in relief when they reached the lake and nary a vehicle or another soul was in sight.

He put Baby in park and turned off her ignition. The low rumble purr ceased. Silence surrounded them. For a long moment, Dean stared out the windshield, watching the ripples on the water made by the light breeze. It really did look like it was made of crystals. The scene calmed him as did the presence of the only person he really wanted to be with tonight.

“Angel or demon?”

“Angel. An old acquaintance. Not my first of the night, but hopefully my last.”

This got Dean’s attention. He tore his gaze away from the lake, eyes resting on the disheveled man next to him. God, Castiel looked so … _sad._ It killed him to see his friend like this. They both had killed friends, acquaintances, loved ones. Part of the job. The sucky part, but such was the life of a hunter and a rogue angel.

“I’m sorry, Cas. I should have realized you might know them once we knew what we were dealing with. Were you, um, were you close?”

Lovers weren’t something Castiel confessed to having. His first was a reaper bitch who had tricked him into cashing in his v-card in order to hold him hostage and torture him for information. This happened a few years ago. Before that, nothing. Balthazar had been a big neon sign, but still zilch. The rock star angel who gave exactly zero fucks about anything except his old pal Castiel basically eye fucked him every time they were in the same room. Castiel never seemed to hate it. On the contrary, it very much appeared as though he liked it. At least in Dean’s estimation. But what did he know? Until tonight, he hadn’t been able to admit he was bisexual.

Was it still considered bisexuality if the person (entity?) you were attracted to was an angel? Or would that fall under pansexuality? 

_Nope. Omnisexual. Captain Jack Harkness for the win._

“Not really. Worked together a few times and got along well enough,” Cas explained. “This was back when I was still Team Angel instead of Team Free Will. Once I switched sides, we partnered up a couple more times. It did not go well.”

Castiel squinted at his friend. Dean appeared flushed, worrying his bottom lip as he nodded along with what he was saying. This was unusual behavior. He wondered if something was bothering Dean. Was it something he ate? His diet was atrocious, but he essentially had what they called a cast-iron stomach. Perhaps he had to relieve himself in the woods. A gallon-sized cup of what Castiel assumed was cola sat in the cupholder. No. It was neither of those he decided.

“I’m sure it didn’t,” Dean replied, letting out a soft chuckle. “You’re still happy being on Team Dean, right?” 

What the fuck was he saying?! _Christ, you sound like a damn moron. Team Dean? Why not just stick your tongue down his throat? It would be more subtle._

He swallowed hard. Suddenly, the inside of the Impala seemed warm. Too warm. To the point of it being suffocating.

Just as Dean swallowed, the scales fell from Castiel’s eyes. _He’s nervous. About_ me. Castiel thought back to the last prayer Dean sent out, just before the angel popped into the Impala.

_Just come to me, Cas. Please. We’ll figure this out together. I need you so much._

What a fool he had been not to see it sooner. Some of Dean’s body language recently reflected what Castiel had been beginning to understand. It felt too much of an ask for his love to be reciprocated. One of the brothers (he couldn’t remember if it was Dean or Sam) had once explained the term _friend zone_. He had believed for the longest time that he had been friend zoned by Dean. The best friend. Nothing more. That had been acceptable as they were as close as two people not having sexual relations could be.

But if sex and romance — a real relationship — was now on the table? Hell yes, he wanted it. He had wanted Dean from the moment he saw him in Hell. For too short a time for his liking, Dean had borne Castiel’s handprint on his shoulder. A reminder that, as the angel told him when they first met in his current form, “I gripped you tight and raised you from perdition.” The actual mark was long gone, but maybe he could be claimed in another, more permanent way.

“I have always been Team Dean.” Castiel placed a hand over the one Dean had resting on the leather between them. “Even when you thought I wasn’t.”

For the longest time, Dean didn’t move. Or at least that’s how it felt to him. Seconds stretched out till time lost all meaning. He swallowed again. Sonofabitch. This was really happening. Castiel was giving him all the signs. _Holy shit. He just looked at my lips._ Dean’s eyes flicked to the angel’s mouth, then back to those baby blues.

The next instant, they both closed the gap between them as they slid across the black leather of the bench seat. Their mouths met in glorious fashion as though they were two magnets drawn to each other. Castiel’s lips parted and Dean slid his tongue into the opening like they had been doing this forever. If only. A hunger had been awakened in them both. Moans filled the Impala. Starvation was not healthy.

Dean’s hands went inside the trench coat, loving how it felt to touch this instrument of God ( _heh. That was a damn fine euphemism for Cas’ cock I will make sure to use later_ ) in a way that was far from innocent. Even with a layer of cotton/polyester blend between them, he now had an idea what it was like to hold his friend like that of a lover. Before he could fully comprehend what was happening, his fingers were pulling up the white button-up that had been tucked inside Castiel’s black trousers.

A moan poured out of Dean and into the angel’s mouth when his flesh met Castiel’s. His hands slipped under the shirt, running all over that lean torso and muscular back.

“If this is my idea of Heaven, what on earth will making love to you feel like?” he panted when they finally took a proper breath.

Castiel pushed a smile onto his lips as he struggled to catch his breath. His eyes were lit up as though powered by stars. “Even better, I hope.”

His own hands had now found their way under Dean’s black tee, the long-sleeved burgundy button-up he wore over it was open as always. It astounded Castiel how solid this man felt under his touch. Those fingers went all the way up that fit chest (Dean gasped when they hit his nipples) and down his back and over his sides.

“You’re real.” Astonishment radiated from Castiel. “We’re real. This is real.”

“It is. It’s all real, Cas. I guarantee you that.”

  
  
  
  


When Dean asked if they could get some air after another round of heavy making out, Castiel was immediately suspicious. The query followed him cupping Dean’s crotch and giving a squeeze, which had gotten a rather favorable response from the other man. Once they broke for oxygen, Dean buried his head in the spot where Castiel’s neck and shoulder met. The angel adored how his lover (this term made the corners of his mouth quirk for eternity) nuzzled him, pressing himself closer while maintaining his grip on Castiel’s hips. This softened the dark-haired man, who thought the air inside the Impala was a bit close.

Now, as they sat on Baby’s hood, so close their shoulders touched, Castiel had to admit it was a good suggestion. The lake was lovely as was the surrounding woods, which gave them a veil of privacy he appreciated considering he had a fair idea of what was still to come. Only once had he had sex with another person and he had been human at the time. Initially, he had thought she was a nice girl named April Kelly. In truth, she was a reaper who had seduced him to get information on Metatron, the scribe of God. Although, there was that intense kiss with a demon friend named Meg. Both were dead. Only one of those deaths filled him with sorrow.

There was a warmth coming from his knee. A smile played on his lips. It grew wider when Dean squeezed the spot. Castiel placed a hand on top of the one Dean had on his knee while his free hand rubbed his lover’s back. That touch melted Dean, the tension ebbing from his shoulders allowing his posture to slacken. The angel pressed his lips to Dean’s temple and his man rested his head against Castiel’s.

“I’m sorry it took me so long,” Dean apologized. 

Being in this moment with the one he loved finally allowed him to drop his armor. He could almost hear it clang to the ground despite that ground being dirt and grass. Castiel’s touch unlocked all those doors he had padlocked ages ago, terrified of what it would mean. What it had meant was that he had kept his heart protected from the only entity in the known universe who knew how to care for it. 

Eyes wet again, he silently beat himself up for being such a dick to them both. Dean knew he wasn’t the only one to have suffered from his ego. More times than he could count, he witnessed the light go out in Castiel’s eyes because of him. More times than he could count, he died a little when it did. He squeezed his lover’s knee again, this time a little harder. (This term made his heart skip a beat until his dying day.)

“It took you just long enough. From what I understand, this is a different journey for everyone. I’m just so happy and grateful we’re on the same page. Thought, to be honest, I never thought we would be.

“I don’t want you beating yourself up over that. Our lives are not normal. I know this. We’re constantly battling for our lives, the lives on this planet. We even stopped Armageddon. Demons, angels, and everything in between are charging at us. _A relationship would only make us weaker_ is something I’m sure you told yourself ad nauseum. I say that because I know I have and I like to think I know you better than anyone outside of Sam.”

It was true. Dean took solace in that fact. He wanted to take solace in this man. Sure, okay, he was doing that now, but he wanted to do so in the biblical sense. As he quieted his mind and focused on the angel at his side, Dean could feel that same want coming from Castiel, too. He knew he was half-hard and wondered if his lover was, as well. The black trousers Castiel wore did a nice job hiding any hard-ons.

Unfortunately, he was sitting on the wrong side to gracefully cop a feel to get his answer. His balls retracted when Dean thought of Castiel cupping and squeezing his crotch while they were making out. Fuck that was hot. It had come out of nowhere and damn if he didn’t want more. This tiger was ready to be let out of his cage. Dean was willing to bet everything that his angel’s own inner animal also was primed. Maybe that crotch grab Castiel bestowed upon him wasn’t out of the blue after all.

“You’re right,” Dean admitted. “You do know me as well as Sam. But let’s leave him out of this for tonight. He’s the last person I want to think about when there is so much I want to do to you, with you.”

He was testing the waters, curious to see how far Castiel wanted to take things. Slow and steady had always been his angel’s pace and sex wasn’t something you heard about in relation to angels. Dean had no issues with that. If all they did was make out, maybe grind a little, that was fine with him. Should it be necessary, he would just take care of himself in private. In the woods. _Christ, it would be so hot to fuck him against a tree with him wearing just the loosened tie and trench coat._

Big mistake. All of Dean’s blood shot straight to his cock making it painfully hard. His balls pulled up, too, forcing him to take deep breaths and slowly release them to take the edge off. It mostly worked, but the only true relief was to come. He desperately wanted it to be with Castiel. So much that it literally hurt.

“What do you want to do to me tonight, Dean?” Castiel’s voice was low and husky. That growl purred in Dean’s ear and fuck it was doing so many things to his body he might die right there.

Instinctively, Dean’s hand went straight for where his angel’s cock should be and there it was, hard as a fucking rock. He pulled back to look at his love. “I want us to both get off tonight. I don’t want layers between us. I want you to be the only person I make love to in Baby from now on.”

A pause. “That last bit sounded dirtier than I intended.”

“I don’t care, I love it. All of it.” Castiel’s cheeks flushed. “I have extremely limited experience with sex and not as an angel. Also, I’ve only ever been with a woman.”

Dean grinned. “I have a vast amount of experience and only with women. However, I will cop to watching gay porn on occasion. Still like my busty Asian ladies, but there are men called twinks who make me think of you when I watch. As for the angel part, we’ll take it a step at a time.”

Castiel narrowed his eyes in annoyance. “I am not a twink.” Not that he was entirely sure what that was. He considered what Dean had said, his gaze softening. “You … think of me while you pleasure yourself?”

“Hell yes, I do. Often.”

This blew the angel’s mind. So much new information was making itself available tonight that he had a hard time believing it was true. It was though. 

“I like the way you taste.” It was all he had to contribute under the circumstances. While he couldn’t taste things the way humans do, he did enjoy the sensation of Dean on his tongue. For Castiel, it was the closest to taste he had ever experienced as an angel. “I don’t masturbate, but I do think of you often in a sexual way.”

Nope. Nothing. Dean had no immediate reply to this. Damn this night was now full of the best surprises. As much as he and Castiel knew each other, they both were fonts of information tonight. His heart tightened upon hearing what his angel had to say. He didn’t know which to tackle first.

His mouth opened and closed a few times before words fell out. “Y-y-you think of me in a sexual way often?” Dean swallowed. “That’s so hot.”

A huge grin, accompanied by a silent laugh, spread across Castiel’s features. Dean loved the way the moon lit his black hair.

“I like the way you taste, too,” he added, his insides melting all over again as he looked at his angel in this new light. “Can’t wait to taste the rest of you.”

“I want that, also. I’m curious to know what cum tastes like.” He used air quotes around _tastes._

_“Your_ cum,” Castiel clarified.

“Ditto. I definitely want to know what your cum tastes like. No air quotes. Pretty sure we can swap samples tonight if we play our cards right.”

“Because we’ll ejaculate.”

“That’s my boy,” Dean declared proudly.

He was greeted by a roll of the eyes. Castiel then captured his mouth, deepening the kiss almost immediately. When he broke it, he saw his man’s pupils were blown. He suspected his own were the same.

“I want to be naked with you now.”

  
  
  
  


One “yes please” and a quick kiss later, the men started to undress. Dean opened the driver’s side rear door, chucking his jacket and both layers of shirts. He watched as Castiel removed his tie and trench coat, letting out a whimper as his angel tossed them into the backseat on the passenger side. When Castiel started unbuttoning his shirt, Dean’s mood improved. As he turned to drop his boots and socks onto the floor next to him as he sat in the backseat, he froze. There was the one he loved without a stitch of clothing on his person. 

“Glorious,” he sighed.

Castiel stuck his head inside the car with a questioning look on his face. “Do you need help removing your jeans? I’m quite dexterous.”

From innocent to wicked in the blink of an eye.

Dammit. Dean might need that help if he keeps it up. “I bet you are,” he retorted with a smirk of his own. “Maybe next time.”

Despite his own nakedness, Castiel was taken by how stunning his lover was in only a pair of jeans. Dean Winchester was to him what Michelangelo’s David was to the rest of the world: perfection. His heart raced as he crawled across the backseat to nibble on Dean’s ear. Castiel moaned along with him when Dean reached back to pull on the angel’s hair, twisting himself so their mouths met.

“Get your ass up front,” Dean ordered breathily. “I have an idea.”

“You’re quite bossy,” Castiel shot back. He tweaked one of Dean’s nipples before he obeyed, earning a moan. The way Dean arched his back was quite satisfactory.

Dean fell backward onto the seat and huffed out a chuckle. “Goddamn, you are a tease. I love it!”

He grinned when he heard Castiel laugh from the passenger side of the front seat. Quickly, he undid his belt buckle and removed his jeans along with his underwear. _When in Rome._

Swapping the backseat for the front had adrenaline shooting through Dean’s system. Before he climbed in, he reached along the side of the seat near the driver’s side door and pulled the lever. The back of the seat reclined at a forty-five-degree angle. What he saw when he glanced at Castiel was so debauched and utterly beautiful a part of him wanted to grab his phone and take a photo. His angel’s head lolled back and turned toward him with a lust-filled gaze. Legs spread with his cock at full attention and a pearl of precum at its head.

“You are sex on a stick,” Dean declared as he made his way over to him.

A sex-drunk grin formed on those full lips the closer Dean got. When he reached him, Dean straddled him, the friction from their hard cocks rubbing together eliciting a low, wet moan from each.

“Thank you. That sounded like a compliment.” Castiel’s words came out slow and deliberate. Could one be drunk on a person? He could smell the lingering remains of Dean’s aftershave, but more importantly, he could smell Dean. His hands started at the other man’s hips before they ran up and down his sides.

“Oh, it was,” Dean assured him. He found Castiel’s neck fascinating and, knowing he now had carte blanche, got acquainted with it. His fingers found their way into that dark hair once more when Castiel titled his head back to give him better access to that pale column.

While his lover had his way with Castiel’s neck, the angel put his hands to good use. They kneaded Dean’s ass before making their way up his chest, gliding along his muscular abs until his fingers found those nubs again. This time, he worked them both getting the most delightful sounds out of his man. As soon as Dean arched his back fully, mouth parting from Castiel’s soon-to-be-marked skin, the angel put his lips to the anti-possession tattoo just above Dean’s left breast. A protection sigil that did as advertised, it featured a pentagram inside a double circle surrounded by a sunburst. Castiel kissed and licked every inch of it.

His body fit to burst, Dean pulled his angel off him and connected their mouths in a sloppy yet passionate style. Castiel wasn’t the only one drunk on his lover. That light, clean yet earthy scent had insinuated itself into Dean’s senses ensuring he would never forget what his angel smelled like. He was obsessed with it and relieved to know he could breathe in Castiel whenever he wanted. The weight that had been sitting on his heart for so long had been finally cast off. Dean couldn’t remember the last time he felt this connected to anyone. Had he ever? Lisa had been the closest. This was different and so right.

“Gotta admit, I wasn’t sure if your equipment worked a hundred percent like mine,” he told Castiel huskily. “I’m glad it does though. Not that we couldn’t have worked something out.”

“Yes, we would have.” The angel hadn’t a clue how that would have happened nor did he particularly care. Dean's sexual knowledge ran deep and Castiel had faith that if anyone could find a way to get him off it was this man.

“Ready?” The request came out as a growl, his voice infused with a deep-seated desire that had been pent up for years. There was no doubt they were both ready, but Dean refused to make a move until he had full consent.

“It’s been a decade, Dean. Of course, I’m ready.” The snarl was the only tone Castiel was capable of now that his wish was coming true. He nuzzled Dean’s neck, fully intending to leave a mark or two of his own. Despite his inexperience, he could feel what his man had been doing to his own neck and did the same. 

“I want you so badly it hurts,” he lamented, pulling back to gaze into those green eyes that were still blown. “Don’t you understand that?”

“I do, Cas. Believe me I do.” Dean pressed their foreheads together. “Just needed you to say yes.”

Castiel nodded. “I’m sorry. I understand. I appreciate it, I do. It’s just….”

“I know. I ache for you, too.” He kissed the angel’s cheek and glanced down at their hard, leaking cocks. Initially, he had been going to reach into the glove compartment for the stash of lube he kept there for such an occasion. Seeing the rivulets of precum running down their cocks, the lube seemed unnecessary.

He took Castiel’s hand in one of his and with his free hand gathered their cocks so both were in his grip. Then, Dean placed Castiel’s hand on top of his so their fingers touched. His angel looked on with interest, seemingly comprehending what they were about to do.

“We’re going to masturbate together?”

The corner of Dean’s mouth quirked. “Yeah. Instead of mutual masturbation — which I am keen on trying for the record — this makes it more intimate and, from what I understand, is pretty damn enjoyable.”

A side of Castiel’s mouth lifted. “You’re keen on trying quite a lot with me.”

“Yeah, I am. Aren’t you with me?”

“Definitely. It’s just nice to hear it.”

“It is. So get used to it. And tell me anything you want you to try. Actually, just tell me everything.”

Castiel gave him what was undoubtedly a love-drunk smile. “You, too.”

Oh, Dean was loving that smile. He was certain his face was wearing the exact same one. “Deal.”

“Don’t we need a lubricant?” The conversation had reverted to the business at hand.

“We have enough precum to use, but if not, I have lube in the glove compartment. We’re covered. Promise.” 

To prove his point, he rubbed their precum over both cocks, mixing the fluids as he did so. Slowly, his hand moved up and down their shafts with Castiel keeping pace so they worked as one. As predicted, the precum worked fine. The friction sent a warm sensation to the base of their spines, edging its way up bit by bit until it overtook them. Castiel’s hand mostly covered Dean’s cock while Dean’s did the same with Castiel’s, the heat that built up was emotional as well as physical. 

Taking Dean’s free hand, the angel sucked on his fingers, his eyes never leaving his lover’s. Dean licked his lips as watched, praying he didn’t come right then. Their mouths found each other again and again until they reached the edge. Just before they stepped off, they pulled back so they gaze into each other’s eyes. It was Castiel who commanded Dean to “Look at me.”

A few seconds later, white streams of cum sprayed their chests and coated the hands gripping their cocks with bits even landing in their hair. Dean collapsed onto Castiel, who managed to find enough energy to rub his lover’s lower back while he received a few kisses along his shoulder. He nuzzled the same spot on Dean’s neck as he had done earlier.

“Thank you.” The words were muffled, Castiel’s mouth buried against the other man’s skin.

“Thank _you_ , angel. And you are very welcome.” Dean whispered into his lover’s ear. His arms were now wrapped around Castiel. “Let’s just stay like this for awhile. I love how you’re holding me.”

“My pleasure,” Castiel whispered his reply near Dean’s ear. “I love being held by you. We can stay like this for as long as you want.”

  
  
  
  
  


Sometime later, Dean had enough of the dried cum on his chest though he did enjoy being glued to Castiel. He took solace knowing he would be back in those safe, strong arms once they were clean. The look of sadness when he moved out of his angel’s embrace made his heart tighten. A soft smile appeared on Dean’s mouth. Leaning in, he brushed his lips against Castiel’s, then kissed his nose and forehead.

“I’m just reaching under the seat for a towel so we clean ourselves up. Can you see about grabbing one of the bottles of water I keep on the floor in the back? Here’s hoping it didn’t wedge itself under the seat.”

“Less sticky and crusty would be nice,” Castiel admitted, his eyes bright though heavy lidded. “Go on then.”

He watched Dean admiringly as the sun-kissed, fit younger man with the brown, sculpted hair crawled toward the driver’s side door. Castiel couldn’t take his eyes off that perfect ass as it hung in the air while Dean reached under the seat in search of a clean towel. The angel licked his lips while he fought an insatiable urge. One that involved gripping those cheeks and burying his face in his lover’s ass. Lust was a new sensation for him. Longing he was used to, but this was … good. He shook his head to clear it of such thoughts. _Where was that damn water bottle?_

However, the battle was decided when Dean unwittingly shook his ass he extended his reach for the towel.

Before he had time to think, Castiel gave those globes a squeeze before parting them and shoving his face inside, his nose grazing Dean’s hole as he did so. What had initially been a chuckle coming from his man transformed into a slight moan. Castiel observed the clenching that accompanied the sound. Something had happened. He did something, but what? Replaying it in his mind, he deduced it was when his nose grazed the anus. 

_Dean liked that._

“You don’t have to stop.”

_Dean wanted that._

Castiel felt the blood in his veins, mixed with a heady mix of adrenaline and something more carnal, diverge in two directions: north and south. He parted those tight cheeks again, feeling not unlike Moses when he parted the Red Sea. _Screw Moses. This is much more satisfying._ Now, he took the time to look at what had been so sensitive to spark such an intense reaction when he had barely touched it. This was his first time seeing an anus. Contrary to its ugly name, it was rather beautiful. A pink starburst. Castiel began to understand why those people in erotic films had such an oral fixation when it came to the ass.

“Just lovely.”

He took his time as much for himself as for Dean. From what he picked up reading erotica — the films were good for a quick fix, but he found he preferred the written word — slow and steady was the best course. Like the turtle and the hare. Would that make him the hare? There was a vibration device called The Rabbit that women tended to favor. (He binged every episode of _Sex and the City,_ plus the two films — the less said about the second one the better — one long weekend a few months ago. He felt he was a Charlotte with the potential to be a Carrie. Dean was Samantha and obviously Sam was Miranda.)

Yes, he concluded. He was definitely the hare.

With his forefinger, Castiel traced a circle over the puckered outer ring of the hole. 

Dean’s breath caught. He was resting on his forearms, clutching the found towel in one hand. All the ways he thought this night was going to go when he, Sam, and Castiel raided that mansion in Coldwater, this was not even on the list. There was a lot to be said for seeing where the night took you. This already had become the best one of his life. It just kept getting more wonderful and sexier and perfect.

Out of sheer curiosity and because he had no idea what he was doing, Castiel tentatively stuck in his finger up to the first knuckle. He heard Dean whimper. A good sign. In and out. In and out. On the third go, he let sink in up to the second knuckle. Castiel made another circular motion while his finger was still inside Dean. It fascinated him to watch the hole open some.

“Yes,” Dean moaned. “Yes, angel. Just like that. Oh, God.”

Just as his tongue stuck out to wet his lips, Castiel got an idea. While adding another digit to the one he already was using and finger fucking his lover was a valid option, it wasn’t what the angel wanted. He needed to taste Dean, that sensation from before still fresh in his memory. So, he withdrew his finger and licked a strip directly over that pretty pink hole.

The guttural moan that rolled out of his man went straight to Castiel’s half-hard cock. It was fortuitous his equipment still worked like a man’s. With his lover keening like he was, it wouldn’t take much more to make them both hard. Castiel’s tongue ran clockwise around the starburst, then counter-clockwise. Dean barely used words, but made his approval adamant.

Finally, Castiel couldn’t wait anymore. He snaked his tongue inside his lover, working it to the best of his limited ability. When it grazed something soft and fleshy, this got a bigger than normal reaction from Dean. _There you are._ Aware of the prostate’s existence, Castiel had never considered he would interact with it so soon after entering the sexual part of their relationship. This was the promised land for male-on-male fornication. He knew not to screw this up.

“Oh shit. Fuck. That’s it, Cas. Right there. Yes. Yes. Oh fucking hell, yes!” After these epithets, Dean took his lover’s name in vain for the rest of the act.

Castiel had never heard his name so much as he did for those precious minutes when he fucked Dean with his tongue, making sure to tease that spot until his lover fell apart. His hands had remained glued to his man’s ass almost from the beginning, but now one moved. He used the other hand to keep the ass cheeks parted as he reached under Dean, taking his testicles in his free hand. While Castiel squeezed, pulled, rolled them around in his hand, his lover’s body responded in all the right ways. They were right: reading _was_ fundamental.

A short time later, Dean came for the second time that night. “Don’t stop! Don’t stop! Not till I’m done!” he warned.

Ever obedient, Castiel kept going until his man grew still. Releasing him from his grip, his touch kept going. His hands went up Dean’s back until he was covering him with his body; Dean now lay prostrate on the black leather seat. 

“Are you okay?” Castiel whispered in his ear. He remembered Dean asking permission earlier and a sudden panic washed over him. “Did I take advantage? If I did—”

“You didn’t.” Dean turned his head, a beatific smile on his face. “Dear God in Heaven, we are two thirsty bitches.”

Relieved, a hearty laugh poured out of the angel.

  
  
  
  


The sun’s bright rays reflecting off the waters of the lake and cascading through the windows of the Impala pulled Castiel out of his slumber. He and Dean had fallen asleep upfront once they cleaned themselves and the driver’s side seat. Castiel had recovered the water bottle as well as his trench coat, which currently doubled as a blanket for them. Dean was fast asleep on the angel’s chest, his breathing even. While they slept, the trench coat had slipped down so it now only covered Dean’s ass. As Castiel observed his sleeping beauty, he could see Dean wasn’t cold so he didn’t bother to pull his coat back up.

He replayed last night in his mind. The raid. Their capture. Their escape. Him killing the renegade angel who nearly had gotten away. The time alone afterward. His emotions had been all over the place. That’s not how he had wanted to return to Sam and Dean. Plus, he needed to heal himself again. Time in solitude had helped, as had his friends’ prayers. When Dean sent him that final prayer, Castiel could no longer stay away. He would have called except he had forgotten to charge his phone; definitely needed to get on top of that.

“Hey, beautiful.”

Dean stirred, slurring the words but injecting them with meaning nonetheless. He pressed a kiss into the hollow of Castiel’s throat.

“How long you been awake?” he mumbled, eyes still closed.

Castiel smiled. Dean was slow to wake unless there was an emergency, whereas Sam tended to be a rise-and-shine guy. As for the angel, sleep was not required though he enjoyed resting when the opportunity arose. He rested well last night with the man he loved in his arms.

“Not long. Are you awake or going back to sleep?” He rubbed Dean’s back like he was an infant sleeping on his parent’s chest. 

“Awake. I want to stop for breakfast on the road. I’m not in a hurry though. We can stay like this for as long as you want, angel.”

“Okay, human.”

At this, Dean picked up his head, gazing quizzically at his lover. “Is that really the best you can do?”

“I thought we were being literal with our nicknames.” Castiel’s brow furrowed.

Words failed Dean, who felt a warmth in his heart at his angel’s obtuseness which he found adorable. Instead, he captured his lover’s mouth, deepening it because he needed his fix. Apparently, so did Castiel, which spread the heat to Dean’s cock.

“They’re not nicknames,” he corrected when he broke the kiss. “They’re terms of endearment.”

“What are we?” The question came slow and with trepidation.

“What do you want us to be?” Dean had not been unprepared for this conversation. He had wondered more often of late should he ever be lucky enough to snag Castiel what would they be? Partners never sat well with him.

“Boyfriends.”

Dean smiled at how confident Castiel was when it came to their relationship. “Boyfriends, it is. Can angels marry?”

“What?!” Castiel’s eyes grew wide and his skin flushed.

“Conversation for another time,” he replied with a wink.

“Demon seed.” Despite the surly look on his face, Castiel wrapped a hand around his boyfriend’s neck and pulled in for another kiss.

“That’s me,” Dean confessed when they parted. “The domesticated bad boy. Corrupting God’s hottest soldier.”

His eyes fell on the tattoo written in Enochian that Castiel had applied when he was human for a period to stop the angels from hunting him down after unwittingly participating in a spell that evicted the angels from Heaven and made them mortal. Castiel had gotten it not long before he lost his virginity. Dean delicately ran his fingers over the words located on the lower left of his boyfriend’s abdomen.

“You know, you can’t have me worrying about you like I did last night.” He caught Castiel’s eye. “I was shitting bricks driving around half of Kansas looking for you.”

“I understand. I _am_ sorry, Dean.” His baby blues filled with regret. “I just needed time to recharge … mentally after healing myself. If my phone had been an option, I would have called. _That_ won’t happen again.”

“I get it. I do.” Dean sighed. “I’m just as guilty. I take off with no notice and shut everyone out. I’ll do better. I won’t do that to you if you promise not to do that to me.”

“Deal.”

As they looked into each other’s eyes, they knew they would keep their word. It wasn’t just them alone anymore. They were a package deal. Neither wanted to break the connection. However, Dean wanted to do something before they got back on the road and headed home.

“You were so fucking hot last night. The way my beautiful angel took charge and had his way with me.” That growl he recognized as one he used when he wanted his boyfriend. A growl he had used on Castiel so many times before without realizing why till now.

The flush returned to the lean body beneath, threatening to ignite it. Castiel loved the hungry gleam in Dean’s eyes. Whatever he was about to propose or do, his lover would get no opposition from him. His eyes flicked down to his own hard cock. It had been erect for some time, but the way Dean spoke and how his cock rubbed against his began to make it unbearable. Precum glistened at the tip. Soon, it would run down like it did last night.

“What we did was so good, I wanted more.” He caressed Dean’s cheek. “I _needed_ more. Still do. Never knew I could be capable of feeling this way.”

“I’m all yours, Cas. Now, it’s my turn.”

“Whatever you want.”

Dean wrapped his lips around Castiel’s long, slender cock taking in as much as he could without gagging. It was his first blow job, but he prayed whatever he lacked in technique, he would make up with in enthusiasm. He knew this was a first for his boyfriend, too. Didn’t mean they couldn't enjoy it. Already, he was making a mental note to look into reducing his gag reflex. Listening to Castiel moaning his name and giving him instructions and praising him when he got it right filled Dean with joy. 

When Castiel came, Dean swallowed as much as he could. He kissed his boyfriend after the angel finished so he could theoretically taste himself. Castiel loved it. Not only because he liked the sensation of his own cum on his tongue, but because it was Dean who was serving it to him. It was almost as if he was tasting _them_. Dean couldn’t argue when Castiel admitted this was good.

Too soon after, they were dressed and heading to the bunker and Sam. An hour in, they had breakfast at a truck stop diner. Dean considered ordering the sausage along with his eggs and pancakes when the waitress confirmed they were links. He caught Castiel’s eye, liking the twinkle he saw there. Per his usual, he stuck with the bacon. Castiel ordered an omelet with hash browns because he enjoyed sharing a meal with Dean.

The rest of the drive took longer than planned. A hand job by Castiel nearly had the Impala off the highway twice. After Dean gave him a suitable-for-now punishment to the angel’s delight in the nearest no-tell motel, they were on their way and home by dinner.

They didn’t eat.

Sam was thrilled when they arrived.

And a bit concerned when they immediately disappeared into his brother’s room.

After he ate, Sam went to check on them when he heard what only could be described as sex sounds coming from within.

“About damn time,” he huffed, walking away to put a suitable distance between himself and the new couple.

Dean emerged a few hours later for a food run.

He returned with two sausage pizzas and a six-pack of beer. If his boyfriend decided he wanted a slice, Dean supposed there was enough.

“This reminds me of a porno I watched recently,” he told Castiel, after he was greeted with a kiss despite Dean’s hands being full. “What do you say we make it a movie night?”

“If you promise to wear these.” Castiel held up a pair of black lacy boxer briefs featuring a transparent fabric to properly display the ass. He wore his black trousers and nothing else.

“If you promise not to put on any more clothes.” Dean set down the food and beverage on the bed.

Castiel grinned, tossing the underwear to him. “Deal. I want to see how gorgeous my human looks wearing them.”

“Pizza, porn, and a half-naked you ogling me in my panties?” Dean undressed, taking his time so his boyfriend could enjoy the show. “Best date ever.”


End file.
